A Tooth for a Tooth
by MurraySheWrote
Summary: Murder, bloodthirsty robots, missing children, romance, and terrible pizza. They don't tell you these things when you sign up.
1. Screw Professionalism

***Picks up phone* "Hello, hello? Uh, if you're hearing this, then you know the drill." **

**I do not own any of the characters in Five Nights at Freddy's. They belong to the wonderful Scott Cawthon. **

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><p><strong>To Hell with Professionalism<strong>

A non-existent social life, an empty wallet, and a chronic sense of boredom.

This combination, Flannery Fitzgerald realized, was what led her to being hired at Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria of all places. She wasn't sure what was more pathetic: the fact that she impulsively applied for a job at a restaurant that was practically on financial life support, or the fact that she was literally hired on the same day as her interview. As of today, Flannery was officially the new security guard to work the graveyard shift. According to the manager, Flannery was the first ever female security guard to work at Freddy's. She still wasn't quite sure if it was a title to be proud of, but as long as she had a job, she wasn't complaining. Even if the wages were terrible.

She eyed the neatly folded uniform on the end of her bed in revulsion. After graduating, she had promptly burned every single pair of ill-fitting uniform pants in her closet.

"Never again," she had vowed, smiling gleefully as the flames devoured the small mountain of khaki pants. Now Flannery was eating her words.

Flannery felt like she would be reliving public school again. There was a playground, screaming children, horrible food, and she'd have to wear an unflattering uniform. Shopping for uniform pants had been a nightmare in itself. Flannery was a lanky, leggy girl who towered over the majority of her classmates. Everything she tried on was either too short or too big. Just one of the many joys that came with being tall. There was one torturous year when Mrs. Fitzgerald couldn't find any pants that would fit her daughter. So Flannery was forced to wear frumpy skirts that went past her knees. From sophomore year to junior year, she looked like a nun. This earned her the nickname "Holy Roller." Fun times.

After two uneventful years at community college, Flannery moved back in with her parents and older brother, Jeremy. She supposed it was nice to be home again, but to be frankly honest, she was bored. Her life was starting to fall into a routine. Wake up. Watch TV. Apply for jobs that she'd never hear back from. Feed the cat. Brood about her lack of a boyfriend. Watch the grass grow. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. She didn't have any friends in her hometown. But then again, Flannery wasn't interested in getting chummy with the delightful douchebags who called her "The Beanstalk" for four years. The only friends that she had were Jeremy, her cat, Snugglewumps, and her books. But Flannery wanted more. She'd read almost every book on the shelf at least twice, and she refused to read _Les Misérables _again. Éponine might have been a fictional character, but her life somehow managed to be more exciting in comparison to Flannery's. Éponine was the gatekeeper of the friend zone, for crying out loud. Flannery needed a job. Anything to get her out of the house.

So the wild-goose chase began. It didn't take long for Flannery to figure out that the good jobs were few and far between. And she wasn't qualified for any of them. After two weeks of fruitless searches, she was ready to throw in the towel. Until something in the newspaper jumped out at her. Pointedly ignoring the photo of the creepy animatronic bear with his Cheshire cat grin, Flannery adjusted her glasses before skimming the advertisement. _Help wanted…family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift…12 am to 6 am…blah, blah, blah…monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters…blah, blah, blah…Yackity smackity…$120 a week…to apply, call 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR._

She didn't mind working during the late hours since she was a bit of a night owl by nature. After making a hasty phone call and throwing on the most presentable dress she could find, Flannery was on her way to her job interview. She found it a bit odd that this restaurant had been around for almost forty years, yet she'd never heard of it. Flannery made a mental note to ask Jeremy about it. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel while waiting for the light to turn green. Then the anxiety finally started to sink in.

_What if someone beat me to it? I'm not the only college graduate who's desperate for a job. _

She gripped the wheel tighter, her hands as white as chalk.

_What if I never find a job? Then Mom and Dad will kick me out. They probably think that I'm a freeloader. I hate feeling like a burden._

A feeling of panic swooped in her stomach like a hawk on its prey.

_What if_ _I end up living in a dumpster in a dark alley? I'm afraid of the dark! And dumpsters! _

A single bead of sweat snaked its way down Flannery's temple.

_Why is this damn traffic light taking forever to turn green?!_

Tears were starting to blur her vision.

_What if I'm not good enough?_

At that moment, the light turned green. Flannery took a shaky breath as traffic moved along. She had this horrible habit of creating monsters in her mind. She over-analyzed, worked herself into a frenzy, and expected things to go wrong.

Even though the restaurant was at the far end of the block, she could spot the eyesore that was Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria from miles away. It was bright, colorful, and cheap looking. Those qualities were quintessential ingredients of catnip for children. The parking lot was only half-full so finding a parking place was easy. Once Flannery had parked and turned off her car, she took a moment to try to calm down. She peeked at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she could've bothered to be a bit more ambitious when it came to her makeup.

"Heh. At least I wore mascara. I've got no one to impress," she muttered dully as she smoothed her hair for the umpteenth time. After deeming her appearance to be acceptable, she took a deep breath.

"Hold your head high, smile, and walk tall, Fitzgerald," she said to herself as she got out of her car, determined to carry herself with confidence and grace…only to trip over her own shoelaces not even five feet from her car. Flannery smacked her forehead in exasperation as she scrambled to get off the ground before people started staring.

_ Screw confidence,_ she thought bashfully as she entered the building.

The overwhelming noise levels immediately hit Flannery like a brick wall. Children ran past her in a dizzying blur. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to how obnoxiously colorful everything was. The walls of the dining area were painted a lurid, flamboyant shade of purple and emblazoned with stars. The endless cacophony of screams reminded Flannery of the sounds that cicadas made during mating season.

Despite the noise, the restaurant was only a little over half-full. As she moved past the long tables, she caught sight of children devouring rubbery-looking pizza. Their sauce-covered faces and greedy eyes made Flannery think of werewolves feasting on their kill. She shuddered.

At the far end of the room was a stage with the spangled curtains closed. That must be where the animatronics play. She spotted a small arcade that wasn't far from the stage. If she got this job, then there would be plenty of time for skee ball later.

She scanned the building for an employee that could direct her to the manager. She finally spotted the cashier, a bored-looking teenager wearing dramatic eye makeup. She slouched against the counter where children could exchange the meager amount of tickets they'd earned for cheap-looking prizes. The sour-faced cashier looked out of place against the wall lined with cheerful stuffed animals. She filed her nails lazily, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

"Excuse me, miss..." Flannery's eyes zeroed in on the girl's name tag before continuing. "Trisha. I have a job interview here, and I don't know my way around."

Trisha didn't respond, only looking up to spit out the gum she'd been chewing into an empty wrapper. She then made a great show of daintily letting the wrapper fall to the floor, not even bothering to throw it in the trash bin. _That was literally two feet away_. She then proceeded to pop a new piece into her mouth, chomping loudly. A disgruntled mother shot a dirty look in Trisha's direction as she passed the prize counter.

"If it isn't too much trouble, could you please tell me where I could find the manager?" Flannery asked again, determined to keep her tone polite. The cashier still didn't acknowledge her, now caking on an unnecessary coat of blood-red lipstick.

After two minutes of failed attempts at getting the girl's attention, Flannery was beginning to see red. She wondered if punching an employee would look bad on her resume.

It was then that Flannery noticed the bright pink earbuds in the girl's pierced ears. The cashier was far too occupied with responding to an evidently amusing text message. Loud rock music blared from the headphones. That was the last straw. To hell with professionalism. Flannery stomped straight up to the counter, ignoring the protests of the small line of customers. She yanked the headphones from the girl's ears in one swift movement before flinging them to the floor. Trisha whirled around, her scowl deepening.

"What the _hell _is your problem. I paid $150 for th-" she protested, before being cut off.

"I think my interview is far more important than your precious knock-off headphones. So you can put away your damn phone and tell me where the manager is." Flannery snarled as she glared down at the petite cashier. "And you can wipe that smirk of your face while you're at it, you bitch."

"This is exactly why you kids are going to a private school," said an unamused father to his two children who were snickering quietly.

The two girls stared each other down in tense silence for several moments.

Trisha wordlessly jabbed a finger in the direction of the hallway, a dangerously calm expression on her face. Flannery turned on her heel and stalked toward the manager's office, weaving her way through the tables. Trisha stooped to pick up her headphones from the floor before glaring at the retreating girl.

"She won't last one night," the girl muttered, unwrapping a fresh piece of gum. She casted a dark look towards the main stage. "None of them do."

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><p><strong>The drama! Sorry if the plot's moving slowly. I'm new to writing stories, so I'm taking baby steps. Sooo...Flannery is kind of a spaz lol. In the next chapter, Flannery goes in for her interview and will meet Mike Schmidt. Adorableness will ensue. And yep, Flannery's brother is none other than Jeremy Fitzgerald from FNAF2! You'll be seeing more of him later in the story. :)<strong>

**And then there is the delightful ray of sunshine that is Trisha. I'm totally joking. She's a troll, and I had originally written her as a one-off character to demonstrate how terrible the customer service is at Freddy's. I'll say this: at first glance, you think that Trisha deliberately acts like a jerk for the sake of being a jerk. But I think we all said the same thing about a certain character *cough* Severus Snape *cough*. Then we all ate our words after reading the seventh book. **

**That being said, Trisha is a character you should definitely keep an eye on. That's all I'm gonna say. ;)**

**Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	2. The Most Magical Hellhole on Earth

**Howdy! I'm back! It took me a few tries to write this, but I guess the third try is the charm! In this chapter, we meet Mike Schmidt. Thank you all for being patient and being awesome! So without further ado, let's jump into chapter 2! (unintentional rhymes FTW)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in FNaF. Nor am I responsible for injury/dismemberment. That responsibility belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>The Most Magical Hellhole on Earth<strong>

The interview itself had lasted approximately two minutes.

The manager was a short, stocky man with a thin moustache and a pink complexion. He grinned from ear to ear as Flannery approached his office.

"Ah! You must be the eager beaver who called earlier! I'm Arnold Rosenblum, manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza! And you must be Francine!"

"Uh, sure. Let's go with that." She muttered as he ushered her into his office. She would have corrected him, but she was too terrified to bother.

Flannery settled into the chair facing Mr. Rosenblum's desk. The office was tiny, and sparsely decorated.

"So let's get down to business. Do you have any work experience when it comes to surveillance?" asked Mr. Rosenblum, a toothy grin plastered on his round face. Flannery tried not to cringe. She hated when people smiled with both rows of teeth. It made her think of crocodiles and child beauty pageants.

"Well…I was a pet sitter for my neighbor's goldfish." she offered meekly, leaving out the part about the fish dying on the second day.

The manager's smile didn't waver. There should be a law against smiling that much. "Great! Do you have any special skills that could come in handy?"

"I used to play tennis-"

"Splendid!" he cried. Flannery winced, not expecting him to be so loud. "You're hired!"

He then proceeded to shake her hand so vigorously that Flannery thought her arm would fall out of its socket. She was so overwhelmed by the bizarreness of the situation. Was this normal?

Before Flannery could ask a question, Mr. Rosenblum shoved a stack of forms and a pen under her nose. Flannery inwardly groaned.

"We need for you to sign these forms."

"What for?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"It's a legal thing. By signing this, you have acknowledged that the restaurant is not responsible for any…incidents." Mr. Rosenblum said carefully, folding his hands on his desk.

Furrowing her brow, Flannery glanced at the first page of the top of the stack.

**Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.**

Alarm bells started going off in Flannery's mind. Of course, the only job that she was qualified for had to be the sketchy one. But what could be dangerous about a children's pizzeria? Burglars? Death by pizza? Both?

_If I sign this, I'm selling my soul to the Devil_, Flannery thought. _Just like signing student loans._

"Do you have any questions, Miss Fitzgerald?" Mr. Rosenblum asked as he extended a stubby hand to her.

Flannery didn't answer right away. She had a lot of questions, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't answer any of them. This was her chance to walk away. This was the point of no return. She eyed him warily for a moment.

"When do I start?" she finally asked, shaking his hand.

Mr. Rosenblum smiled wider, if that was possible. Flannery tried in vain to return the smile.

"Your first shift begins at midnight. Welcome to Freddy's!"

_More like "Welcome to Hell."_

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><p><em>Well, that escalated quickly<em>, Flannery thought as she left the manager's office and ambled towards the dining area. She had several hours until her first shift, but she wanted to look around while she had the chance. She carried her new uniform in an old shopping bag.

_"It's me."_

Goosebumps crawled up the back of her neck. What was that? She looked over her shoulder. No one there.

"H-hello?" Flannery stammered, cautiously peeking down the West hallway. The walls were plastered with crude children's drawings. The door closest to her was slightly ajar, revealing shelves cluttered with cleaning supplies. Paper stars dangled from the ceiling in a lame attempt to brighten the dingy hallway. It was about as helpful as hanging a chandelier in a haunted house. A poster of Freddy Fazbear grinned goofily from the corner.

"You wouldn't happen to know who said that, do you, Mr. Fazbear?" she muttered, staring at the unresponsive poster. Those blue eyes were almost hypnotic.

"Why are you talking to that poster?"

Flannery yelped in fright; she hated when people snuck up on her. After taking a shaky breath, she turned towards the source of the voice.

A man leaned against the doorway of what looked like a security office. He smiled apologetically when he saw how flustered Flannery looked.

"Sorry, if I spooked you." he said quietly. "It's my break, and I don't usually get visitors…during the day."

"NononoitsfineIheardaspookyvoiceandIwasdistractedsoitsmyfaultdontlookatme!" Flannery babbled at lightning speed, waving a hand spastically. She had a tendency for becoming tongue-tied when talking to guys. The man blinked in mild confusion, to which Flannery's face turned as red as her hair.

"I m-meant to say that I had heard a weird voice and I thought it came from down here. There's no need for you to apologize. I'm sorry for disturbing you." With that, she turned to go.

"No, wait! I never said having visitors was a bad thing! It actually gets pretty damn lonely back here," he said hurriedly, his denim blue eyes glimmering at the prospect of companionship. _I know that look all too well. _She thought as she took in his appearance.

He looked young. Probably not much older than her. He wasn't quite as tall as she was. He was skinny, and his uniform looked too big for him. His scruffy brown hair stood up at funny angles. He had a long nose.

_Damn, _Flannery thought. _He's cute._

"…Um, I don't mean to be rude, but are you checking me out?" he asked awkwardly. That snapped her right out of it.

"No!" she squeaked, sincerely hoping that she hadn't drooled. It wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm not complaining if you were." Mike winked. Flannery's cheeks were practically magenta at this point.

"What's your name?" she asked, wanting to change the subject before she made a bigger fool of herself. She was suddenly oblivious to the screams and laughter coming from the dining area. The world outside the hallway seemed to fade away.

"Mike Schmidt. Some of my friends call me Mikey...and by that, I mean Grandma. I'm Michael Arthur Schmidt on special occasions and when my mom is royally pissed off. What's yours?"

"Flannery Fitzgerald."

"'Flannery' as in Flannery O'Connor?"

"Yeah, my mom was a literature nerd." she said with a smile. "I take it that you are, too."

"Not exactly. I failed English Composition II three times in college. I'm well-acquainted with the works of Miss O'Connor." he admitted with an embarrassed grin.

"Nice."

"So what brings you to the most magical hellhole on earth?" Mike asked, smiling wryly.

"Well, obviously not the pizza." Flannery replied. He chuckled at that.

"Eh, once you get around the appearance, it's not all that bad. Nothing to write home about, but it gets the job done."

"That's why I'm here. A job."

"I figured as much. Let me guess." Mike paused. "Nothing's opened up in the kitchen. They just hired a new janitor. How Trisha has managed to avoided being fired is beyond me. And that little punk ass has been working here for two years. So that means you're here for…"

It was at that moment that his eyes landed on the uniform by her feet. Flannery could almost see the wheels turning in Mike's head. Aside from the whirring of the fan in the background, everything was silent.

"Oh." was all that Mike was capable of saying. He didn't look happy.

"So…I have no idea what I'm getting myself into." she admitted in a small voice, looking down at her hands. "I have no work experience. I can't fight my way out of a paper bag. And I'm scared. But I need this job. I need to prove to myself that I can do something. So, go ahead. Tell me that I should quit."

After what seemed like an eternity, Flannery felt a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her eyes to find Mike looking at her

"I don't know you very well yet. But I know exactly how you feel. I was in your shoes not too long ago. I'm still wearing those shoes. I was scared, too. I won't sugarcoat it: this place will give you every reason to quit. Especially in the first week. You'll figure that out at midnight. But I'm not gonna let you go through this alone." he promised, squeezing her shoulder gently. Flannery felt something flutter in her chest.

"Thanks," she whispered, giving him a watery smile. She was going to be an emotional wreck by the end of her first shift.

"Don't mention it. You got any questions?"

"Yeah. Is this place haunted?" Flannery asked.

"Uh…no. Why?"

"I thought I heard a voice come from down here." Flannery said.

"A voice? What did it say?" Mike asked with a knit brow.

"It's me."

A strange look briefly crossed Mike's features.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

Mike hesitated before responding, "Nope."

"It was probably just my imagination. Or some stupid kids." Flannery said dismissively.

"Maybe." Mike laughed nervously as he glanced at his watch. _12:55_. "My break's about to be over. How about I give you the grand tour?"

Flannery's pale green eyes glimmered in the dim light of the hallway. "I'd like that."

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><p>"...Get plenty of shut-eye before tonight. You're gonna need it. Be here by 11:45. I strongly suggest that you bring a flashlight in case the power goes out. This place is pretty creepy in the dark."<p>

"Can't they just get a generator or something?" Flannery asked as they wandered back toward the dining area.

"Fazbear Entertainment doesn't believe in practicality. It's against their religion." Mike deadpanned.

"That should be their motto." she giggled as they reached the door.

"Well, this is where I leave you. I look forward to working with you, Miss Fitzgerald." Mike said.

"Thanks. I look forward to working with me, too."

"Fazbear Entertainment also doesn't believe in sarcasm." Mike smirked. Flannery stuck out her tongue as he moseyed back to his office.

Flannery turned to leave...but there was one thing she needed to do. She turned and sauntered towards Trisha's post at the prize counter. The teenager's lip curled.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the psychotic newborn giraffe." she sneered, before pointing one finger to the door. "The zoo's that way."

In response, Flannery slid the bag containing her uniform onto the counter. Trisha raised a blond eyebrow.

"What in the name of this." she asked, peering into the bag.

"My uniform." Flannery said with a smug grin. "Say hello to the new security guard."

The look that Trisha gave her was solemn, almost pitying.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading chapter two! Fun fact, I actually did fail English comp II multiple times in college. I did consistently well on the tests, but I had a fear of writing papers. I was terrified of having my opinions rejected. (It took me a few tries but I eventually passed) In the next chapter, Flannery will begin her first shift. And as you can guess, the sh*t will hit the fan. Luckily, she'll have Mike to help her get through the first night. ;)<strong>


	3. Soda Cans

**Helloooo! I won't keep you waiting any longer. This chapter is more dialogue-oriented than the previous chapters. It's not my best, and I struggled with this one. The next chapter also takes place in the same night. Please leave a review and tell me what you think! Enjoy! :)**

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><p><strong>Soda Cans<strong>

Most people were afraid of the dark. Flannery Fitzgerald was not like most people.

She had a different definition of what was scary. She wasn't afraid of the monster under the bed. It was the _threat_ of a monster being under the bed that kept her awake as a child. She'd always had something of an overactive imagination. And unlike most people, Flannery loved imagining what the monster under the bed was like.

She didn't know it yet, but tonight she would meet the monsters under the bed.

It was 11:42 when she arrived. The moon overhead glowed like a lonely paper lantern, bathing the pizzeria in silvery light and shadows. Flannery had a strange fascination with the moon's way of making everything look different. The world was a mystery to be solved. She stood in the empty parking lot and quietly gazed up at the moon. She wondered what the moon would feel like if she could hold it in her hand.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Flannery was broken out of her reverie by a sudden tapping sound. She looked over her shoulder to see Mike standing in the doorway. He waved and motioned for her to come inside.

She smiled as she pushed open the door. The dining area was uncharacteristically quiet. She almost had a hard time believing that this was the same boisterous restaurant.

Mike gave her a lopsided smile as he looked her up and down. "You look...nice tonight."

Flannery grimaced at her ill-fitting blue uniform shirt. The sleeves hung loosely on her arms like sloths dangling from a tree. The dark trousers were too short and showcased her brightly colored owl socks.

"Aw, shucks. I hope I'm not too overdressed." Flannery said dryly.

"Nah, you can make it work."

"A potato sack would be more flattering than this." Flannery snickered, before finally noticing three unblinking sets of eyes that stared back at her.

Mike followed her gaze and smiled. "And without further ado, this is who you'll be guarding."

With their tall, bulky stature, the animatronics resembled football players. The leader of the trio was a dapper-looking bear with electric blue eyes and a top hat. He clutched a microphone in one of his baseball glove-like paws. He was flanked by a guitar-wielding lavender rabbit and a bright yellow chicken wearing a bib adorned with the phrase "LET'S EAT!"

To say that they were creepy was a total understatement.

"Freddy. Bonnie. Chica." Mike said briskly, acknowledging each one before checking his watch. _11:55._ "Jesus Christ Superstar! I'd better lock up and get the lights out. Go straight to the office and _don't leave for anything._"

By his urgent tone, Flannery figured that now was not the time for questions. She nodded and disappeared down the dark hallway.

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><p>Flannery settled into a mildly uncomfortable chair that squeaked like a mouse being tortured every time that she moved. The office was tiny, cramped, and very...grey. A poster featuring the animatronics and a handful of children's drawings gave the office a small splash of color. Facing her was a desk where several archaic-looking monitors sat. An odd toy cupcake peered at her from its perch on top of the monitors.<p>

"Jeez, does anyone ever dust in here?" Flannery muttered incredulously as she counted four cobwebs.

There were two doors and two large windows on either side of her. She didn't recall the hallways being so dark on her way to the office. Each door had buttons marked 'door' and 'light'. Flannery cautiously pressed one and a very heavy-looking door dropped down. She pressed the button again and brought the door back up. She flickered the lights a few times.

_They can afford state-of-the-art security doors, but they can't be bothered with buying a generator. _Flannery thought with a smirk.

Aside from the whirring fan, the pizzeria was silent as a tomb. It had to be midnight by now.

_RIIIIIIING!_

Flannery tensed at the sound. She spun around and found an outdated telephone on the back wall.

_RIIIIIIING!_

Who in their right mind would be calling at this time of night?

_RIIIIIIING!_

Before Flannery could answer, it went to voicemail.

_"Hello, h-hello?" a good-natured male voice asked. "I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you..."_

The tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away. Hearing the voice of another human being had never felt so comforting.

_"...I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?"_

At that moment, a windswept Mike finally sailed into the office.

"Oh, jeez. I never thought I'd have to hear this bozo's voice again." he groaned as he plopped down in the chair next to Flannery.

He plucked a small monitor from the desk behind him and handed it to Flannery. "Consider this your magic mirror."

The device switched on, and the grainy image of the three characters filled the screen. In the stark lighting and shadows, they looked...eerie. They were too quiet. Too still.

_"Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No! If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night, too..."_

Flannery raised an eyebrow. 'Quirky' was an adjective that you used to describe an offbeat romantic-comedy starring Zooey Deschanel.

_"...So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay."_

"Irritable?" Flannery scoffed. "They're animatronics."

"Well...um. Let's just say that their artificial intelligence is...above average." Mike said carefully.

_"Just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87."_

_Oh, shit._

_"I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?" _Phone Guy prattled on, cheerfully oblivious to the damage he'd caused. A hollow, awkward laugh escaped Flannery's lips.

_"...These characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours, probably won't recognize you as a _person. _They'll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. __Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit."_

The walls seemed to be closing in. Flannery's throat went dry and it felt like someone had replaced her blood with freezing water.

_ "Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Alright, good night."_

Flannery said nothing for several minutes. She slowly turned towards Mike, who suddenly took great interest in a cobweb.

"How dangerous are they?" she asked, her shaking hands betraying her calm tone.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Mike asked meekly.

Flannery's severe expression told him that it wasn't.

"Do you know the weight ratio of a train to a car?" he sighed, putting down the monitor and leaning forward in his chair.

"Mike, this isn't driver's ed."

"It is now. So answer the teacher's question."

Flannery pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling. "A car to a soda can?"

"Bingo!" Mike sang, gesturing grandly like a game show host.

"So...I'm a soda can." she said hoarsely, removing her glasses and hiding her face in her hands.

"Well...you're a cute soda can, if it makes you feel any better."

Her cheeks flushed pleasantly, but a thousand fearful wings fluttered in her chest.

"How do you fend them off?"

"You don't."

"What?!" Flannery squeaked.

"If Fazbear Entertainment sees so much as a scratch on the animatronics, they will sue you before you can even blink." Mike said. "Besides, a soda can doesn't stand a chance against a car."

"Then how do you avoid being stuffed into a suit?" she moaned, peeking at Mike through her fingers.

Mike simply smiled and said, "Convince 'em that you're a car."

* * *

><p>It was almost 4 a.m. and Flannery almost wished for a near-death experience. Watching a spider devour an unsuspecting fly did not make for ideal entertainment. She absentmindedly picked up the monitor for the umpteenth time. Freddy and Chica still had not budged from the stage.<p>

_But Bonnie was gone._

"Mike." she said slowly, staring at the screen. Tendrils of dread snaked their way through her stomach. "One moved."

"Probably Bonnie." Mike yawned, idly turning the page of a comic book. "He can be pretty aggressive. But he's easily deterred by shut doors."

"GOD BLESS AMERICA!" she yelped when she finally found Bonnie, nearly dropping the monitor. Mike peeked over her shoulder and snorted. The rabbit's face was inches from the camera. He leered at them with dark, bottomless eyes.

"Alright, Mr. Demille_,_ I'm ready for my close-up." he said huskily, earning him a withering glare from Flannery.

"Jeez! Pardon me for trying to cheer you up." Mike said, holding his hands in the air.

"I'm trapped in a creepy restaurant with three overgrown Neopets that play Pretty Pretty Princess Dress-Up with their victims! When you find a bright side to this, _please_ let me know." Flannery said through gritted teeth.

"Four."

"Four what?"

"There's uh, actually a fourth character." Mike said. "As long as you check Pirate Cove every so often, you shouldn't have to worry about him right away."

Flannery switched to camera 1C out of pure curiosity. Whatever was in there was concealed by spangled violet curtains. A sign read **'Sorry! Out of order.' **To her great amusement, she discovered that the sign was also patterned with stars to match the curtain.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Home of serial killer robots and trendy out-of-order signs." she snickered.

"Now you see what Fazbear Entertainment's priorities are." Mike said, his eyes gleaming.

"So what is he?"

"His name's Foxy. By the name of the attraction, you can guess what his gimmick is."

"A lawyer. _Definitely_ a lawyer." Flannery said cheekily.

"Close, but no cigar." Mike chuckled.

"So why isn't he on the poster?" she asked, leaning forward.

"Four words: The Bite of '87." Mike said plainly.

"Oh." she shuddered. _It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe._

"His actions cost the pizzeria its reputation and half of its customers. The other animatronics lost their freedom and they were furious that Foxy had broken the golden rule: never attack the customers."

"So they exiled him." Flannery finished.

"You could call it that. All you need to know about Foxy is that he is ruthless and he _will_ kill you if he gets the opportunity." Mike said somberly.

"That bad?"

Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "On my third night, I had the misfortune of being visited by Foxy. I looked away from Pirate Cove for one second, and when I checked again, it was empty. I barely had time to shut the door."

He extended his left hand to Flannery. She stifled a gasp as she stared at a jagged scar that gleamed faintly in the light.

"He's faster than you can imagine. I'll never forget the way his eyes glowed...those teeth."

He drifted off into silence, his eyes distant.

"I like it. It looks pretty bad ass." she said lightly, tilting her head. Mike cracked a smile.

"Well, for obvious reasons I can't tell anyone how I really got this scar. So I just tell 'em that a dark wizard gave it to me.."

Mike's breath hitched as Flannery suddenly took his hand in hers. Her long fingers gently wandered over the faded lines like a traveler on a winding country road.

Mike's gaze flickered down to her lips. His face was mere inches from hers, Flannery realized as warmth spread from her chest and flooded her cheeks.

"You should probably check the monitor." Mike murmured, his voice suddenly deep. The spell was finally broken.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

Every hair on the back of Flannery's neck stood straight up as heavy footsteps slowly lumbered down the hallway. Then the sound stopped. Ignoring the dread in her stomach, she slowly rose from her chair and flickered the light.

Bonnie's face was illuminated, his mouth open wide.

Her heart leapt in her chest like a caged bird as she slammed the door shut.

"Well, looks like you'd better buckle down, Elmer Fudd." Mike grinned. "It's wabbit season."


	4. Changes

**Hey, guys! I've got an announcement concerning the story.**

**Don't worry. I'm not discontinuing it. I've had a nasty case of writer's block over the past month and couldn't figure out what it was. Then I realized the problem was Flannery. She just isn't an interesting protagonist and I think she would have been better as a minor/supporting character. Generically nice characters bore the snot out of me.**

**Sooo the new protagonist is...Trisha, the rude prize counter girl. She's much more fun to write. Her character is more developed and she has a story arc that ties into the lore from the first game. Mike will be the deuteragonist. This version of the story will stay up for now until I finish the revamped first chapter.**


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